Over The City Of Gold And Lead
by TheMercurialMistress
Summary: A book & film AU set before the battle of the five armies, the dragon sickness has taken over Thorin, to save him from himself Gandalf and Bilbo send him to modern day London with no memory of middle earth and only dreams and a persistent former hobbit to tether him to his real life. Can Thorin be saved and brought home (romance, drama, friendship and foot waxing)
1. The Manners Of A Magpie

**Over The City Of Gold and Lead: **_And I begin to picture your life over a series of staggered steps._

I have never written a fan fiction before so I am hoping that this gives me some sort of updating discipline!

This is currently rated a T and may or may not have the rating raised depending on progressing chapters. It's a mixture of book based inspiration and idea's taken from the films. It is AU and stems from a wish I had in childhood that Thorin could be saved from his fate that seemed cemented in the lead up to the battle of the five armies so obviously I have taken some artistic licence with the scenes leading up to the battle etc. (this is my disclaimed so you don't shout at me for being factually inaccurate in regards to the novel – what I do I do with love!)

Additionally: The title comes from the song 'City Of Gold' by the supremely wonderful 'The Sound Of The Ladies' go have a listen; it's a stunning song and wonderful album that I can't recommend highly enough…oh and you all know I don't own any of Tolkien's literary genius because if I did I would be rolling in the money!

_**Edit: Because of a really lovely review from WhiteFang72 I am editing and adding this short prologue to the story. Part 5 is in the works and again I thank everyone for reading/reviewing and being genuinely lovely. Hope this makes it all a bit clearly for non-book lovers and I do want this to appeal to Tolkien fans and Jackson fans (Peter…not Michael…you know, obviously!)**_

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_Prologue:_

Bard sat with the elves in their camp at the feet of the lonely mountain. A union had formed between the two races, the elves honoured the dragon slayer and with this new found respect chose to back him and support him in all his endeavours. Bard heir of Girion and rightful Lord of Dale sat erect and straight faced surrounded by his new companions. Esgaroth had burnt to a cinder and its people left utterly destitute because of the rage of the wyrm. The mighty and horrible Smaug had been slayed and slayed by Bard's own arrow but this was not a time for celebrating. He had killed the beast and so the dwarves reclaimed their rightful home land and still that damned stubborn 'King' refused to give the human the twelfth of the profit that was his by rights. He needed the gold, the warrior was intent on his reward; he would rebuild the homes and lives of his people with that fortune. Dale would have its stolen wealth restored; this he vowed but until the stubborn King under the mountain aided him and awarded him his rightful reward the men and the elves could do nothing but wait and in such a stand-off the gods only knew what resolution could be reached.

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The little Halfling watched the dwarf sleep, the King under the mountain had reclaimed his home and his gold but it came at such a terrible price. This man he had come to care about so deeply and in his own way respect was being consumed and burned by a dragon's sickness. His covetous nature was always an undeniable part of the stoic kings character and now Bilbo had to consider the truth that maybe – for Thorin at least - all this effort and pain, all this death. It was all truly for the gold and his precious Arkenstone.

In the night when Bilbo heard the Dwarf King first utter that word as he laid in a passive grip of sleep the hobbit knew that trouble was brewing though he pushed it from his mind, the journey was long and tiring. He decided one couldn't pull too many judgements from it. No he would not believe it to be true, not of Thorin. Though of course it was true and in the second that Bilbo realised it he became so acutely aware that this would be the reason for Thorin's demise, not his ferocious pride, nor his recklessness, gods above it would not even be his damnable stubbornness, no this hunger for the cold suns of gold would surely tear his friend from this world and upon that though Bilbo found it difficult not to simply give up himself.

Cantankerous as the dwarf could be he did have many finer qualities. Those of loyalty and honour sprung most readily to his mind, he recalled the moment in the clearing as the troll lifted him up, only Kili stood as his defender and as he was flung towards the youngest dwarf in the company he felt his heart stopping, he was going to die. He could not fight himself and Kili could not kill three trolls single handed no matter how accomplished he was with a blade. Bilbo thought in those seconds of Bag End and how he wished above all else he had stayed there. There where it was beautiful and peaceful, where he could garden and cook and die as a very old and very fat hobbit. This thought was his last very dark thought before the reverie was broken by a battle cry, spoke in a tongue Bilbo could not understand but the rich baritone was unmistakable. Thorin charged in, his loyal dwarves following close behind, his dark greying hair flew behind him as he dived into the fray; steadfast, powerful and courageous that was the Thorin Oakenshield that Bilbo called friend and the reason his other companions so readily called him king.

He was tired as he moved from his bedding in the halls of Erebor, he had barely laid down to sleep but after the defeat of Smaug, coupled with the damned stubbornness of the King under the mountain and now, to top it all off the seemingly inevitable war that was encroaching upon the company Bilbo was not even mildly shocked that he was unable to find sleep and so he settles for hoping that who he sought out would be equally awake. He crept through the corridor where all the beds of the dwarves had been set – they were too unsure of the stability of certain area's so felt they should, while they slept at least remain somewhere obviously safe. As he scuttled through the mass of bodies (nearly tripping on the robust form of Bombur) smiling at their sleeping forms and found within him an even stronger determination that went from kindling embers to a roaring flame that even Smaug the terrible would have been impressed by. Each face of each dwarf reminded him why he needed to stop this madness before it began. Gandalf sat cross legged with his long pipe, he managed to look majestic and powerful despite the shabbiness of his appearance; if Bilbo did not know better he could have sworn Gandalf was expecting his company and his eyes twinkled with a light smile as the little Halfling came closer and sat right next to his considerably taller companion so their voice could be low, unheard and deeply conspiratorial.

"Bilbo, what brings you for a chat at this hour?" he looked so relaxed and Bilbo felt that if anyone should have awoken they would have giggled at the long wizard looking positively at ease while the smaller man fidgety terrible, his back too straight and posture too stiff.

"I…" he began before closing his mouth to consider what he wanted to say, he felt so unsure of what he could say; but despite all belief to the contrary Bilbo Baggins was no coward and come hell or high water he would find a way to save these people who had become like a family to him on that long journey from the Shire. Looking over his shoulder he let his eyes rest on Thorin (If he was honest he felt shocked that the damned dwarf wasn't sleeping with some of his bloody gold) and as he cleared his throat Gandalf cut him off at the pass.

"I should like to stop this madness too Bilbo but I do not believe we can change his stubborn mind anymore then we can change what we ate for breakfast yesterday."

"We must try Gandalf, and if we can't change it well maybe we can…can't we incapacitate him!?" with that desperately blurted sentiment in mind Gandalf let out a warm chuckle

"I do not believe so, his dwarves will follow him in whatever he commands and will not take too kindly to us trying to…as you put it…incapacitate him, also can you imagine trying to knock out Thorin Oakenshield? If his skull is as thick as he is stubborn then my dear hobbit I think we would be hitting him for a very long time." Such an image drew a genuine grin from Bilbo, and he felt good to be in such kind company. "There must be something we can do? He's my friend…I can't bear to see him die; it would be too cruel for this quest to end like that and it will if we don't do something. Can't we hide him or get rid of him? Just…just until this whole horrid mess is sorted you understand; he seems ill Gandalf and his nature as it stands will only bring us more misery."

For a long moment Gandalf sat and sucked upon his pipe in a thoughtful manner. He allowed his shrewd eyes to survey the room and finally after what felt like an age he let his gaze fall back to his companion.

"There is a possibility, though I daresay not the nicest one but I believe it could help. However we need all the dwarves onside and that in its self will be no easy task. It will leave our dear King physically uninjured and suitably absent and maybe then we will be able to sort out this whole sticky business and have him return…you never know we may even have a little good fortune and see our old friend return to himself." Gandalf paused thoughtfully blowing a smoke ring before adding "or we may be really lucky and he could even come back as a perfectly easy and all together pleasant fellow – though I do not expect miracles! I will explain my idea and if it is agreeable it will be your job to win over the others…don't worry, I shall buy you time alone with them, I'm sure I will find a suitable way to distract Thorin…probably with something precious and shiny."

Then upon that flippant remark Gandalf preceded to tell Bilbo his plan, it was a plan that the hobbit could not digest straight away for the idea seemed so absurd that he could hardly believe he was hearing it and by the time they finished he sat with a surety burning in his belly. This was the only plan they had and if it killed him he would make everyone here see it was the right thing to do. With that knowledge in mind Bilbo returned to his bedding in the hope of a few hours of rewarding sleep before he had to go and face the others and persuade them to his way of thinking.

* * *

Gandalf (like most wizards) was good to his word and not long after the company was fed and dressed he managed to sway Thorin away from the rest of the group by entreating him to show his companion through the majority of Erebor. Bilbo watched them go and as the dwarves laughed and joked, revelling in their old surroundings, the room filled with the merriment of smiles and laughter and songs. 'As it should be' he thought sagely, he nearly jumped out of his skin when a large hand pushed against him jolting him from his thoughts. He turned and saw a concerned looking Dori staring at him analytically as though he was trying to read his thoughts.

"Mr Baggins, if you don't mind me saying you seem a bit…well off." There was a rumble of agreement before Dwalin chipped in

"Are you not happy to be in our great halls laddie?" Bilbo prickled at the unfair accusation, of course he was happy, he was damn well over joyed that they had been returned to their home land but just because they had it back did not mean that all their troubles magically disappeared.

"Course he's happy." Grinned Bofur slapping Bilbo's shoulder from the other side of Dori; "our burglar is finally in a roofed building! Well mostly roofed…bloody dragons." The others chuckled and the tension drained if only a little and soon the dwarves resumed their activities (as dwarves these are mostly messy boisterous activities that I will not go into at length suffice to say even after such a long journey some left Bilbo feeling quite nauseous and uncomfortable!)

"Gandalf and I have been talking and we…well we feel…you see…" the look of expectancy from the company made Bilbo drop the platitude and he said quickly and loudly "We are going to send Thorin away." It seemingly came out of nowhere. The words literally felt as though they had leapt from the hobbits mouth and like all words once they are out catching them is impossible so you must let them stay out no matter how much they hang in the air.

"You're what?" Balin said flabbergasted, the other dwarves simply stared; Fili and Kili sat with their jaws hanging open like fish that Bilbo used to catch as a boy. He cleared his throat.

"I said that me and Gandalf…we…w-w-well, I mean that is to say…we are going to send Thorin away somewhere…somewhere safe." As (in hindsight) should have been expect Dwalin stood and stormed towards the burglar and grabbed him with a large callous hand.

"You wish to betray our King and take him away from all he fought so hard for?" Bilbo clawed uselessly at the large fist that held him.

"Will you hear me out" he gasped as the others remained still. Too dumb founded to move. "You can't ignore it; you must have noticed the change in him. Dwalin; Thorin is ill…I-I-I don't know why or with what but you must have noticed. He cares more about that stupid gold…" Finally Glὁin stood; he slowly and calmly placed his hand on Dwalins until the hobbit was dropped unceremoniously upon the floor.

"That stupid gold" Glὁin said with forced calm "Is the wealth of our people, his birth right as our king. Thorin saw so many die for that…"

"So he should not let such things happen again" Bilbo cut in "I don't want to see him hurt and it is no permanent measure. Gandalf says it need only be until all this trouble with the mortals and the elves ends because Thorin will not relent and if he doesn't then he may kill us all and I can't bear that, ok? You're my friends. I may not be a dwarf but you're still family and I will not watch you die." His chin thrust forward like a young child demanding he be acknowledged. Bofur and Ori helped him back on his feet. "Dwalin I do not want Thorin gone either but give me another choice, a choice that means no lives are risked unnecessarily. You all need to trust me; if we do this if we work together we can sort this and then…maybe this malady will stop afflicting him so." There was silence; long considered and after a while it took on a great sadness. It was then that it washed over him, that he realised that the dwarves had seen the affliction poisoning their King and leader but could not allow it to be considered it was a wound too great to consider. Finally Balin spoke "Laddie, give us a wee while to discuss this amongst dwarves, he is our King and we owe him our loyalty above all else." With a nod Bilbo turned on his heels and left them in search of a quiet place where he could sit undisturbed himself. The lead that weighed in his belly seemed an awful price for doing the right thing.


	2. Discordant Dwarf Chorus

Hello, hope you all had an amazing new year, I am sat writing this with red wine and crap television – still trying to straighten and clarify part one. I hope you enjoy this; reviews etc are very heavily appreciated and I hope you enjoy part two.

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"We can't let them." Dwalin said bluntly, his voice told those around him that there was no room for compromise "Thorin is our King; I didn't follow him all this way to abandon him now." The other dwarves sat under the thick cloud of silence. This was a conversation none of them wanted to be a part of; Ori for one seemed to shift uncomfortably almost trying to wiggle away from the group and this discussion where as Fili and Kili sat characteristically side by side with lowered heads and slumped bodies. Bilbo could have kept his damn mouth shut; it may have all been fine – perhaps Thorin would have got over it in time and they would all be well. Sadly the wisest amongst the group knew time was something they did not have. Both Elves and Men wanted reparations and had (arguably) some fair claim to a portion of the gold of Erebor and it was as clear as the diamonds they held so dear that the King under the mountain would never relent to such a request.

"How can you be so quiet, you must see it as I do?" Dwalin persisted "we came here with a purpose to restore Erebor to the dwarves and in doing so put Thorin as rightful heir back on the throne." There was a rumble of half-hearted agreement from the company though no one else seemed able to vocalize anything more than that guttural sound because they knew in truth that their burglar had been right. Thorin had fallen ill with a sickness of the mind, a sickness that dwelt within his father and grandfather and no good thing follows when such a sickness takes hold, the sickness of Thror ushered in the age of Smaug and though he may be vanquished there was always something else to take his place.

The atmosphere was smothering the 12 men and then finally Balin spoke, his voice filled with something more dreadful then Dwalin's wrath. Balin spoke in a tone of sombre resignation

"Brother…what choice do we have? I love Thorin, to me he is both kin and King but this madness cannot prosper. I cannot allow it."

"So we are to betray him?" Fili had the look about him of a puppy who had been kicked. All eyes flitted between Balin and Dwalin, even Bofur – usually the first to speak and break the tension – sat in silence.

"It is treason brother and I will not have it, not from you or any dwarf; nor may I add will I take it from Gandalf or that damned Halfling."

"Dwalin it is either I betray my King or I betray my friend. I know my choice, If Gandalf can save him from his madness then we must act dishonourably to end things honourably." Balin fixed the larger dwarf with an un-breaking stare; Balin neither moved nor even flinched as Dwalin rushed him in much the same way he rushed the hobbit but this time every dwarf stood and launched themselves towards him and pinned him flat on his back until his violent struggling stopped. He looked at each of them in turn, his eyes screaming every curse and accusation know to the dwarf.

"So this is your choice?" he was barely audible but hot rage burnt every syllable. However it was too late, the decision was made, 11 dwarves stood united and yet utterly alone. They were putting their faith in a plan they barely understood. They were putting their trust in a wizard and all the people of middle-earth could tell you what a foolish choice that was.

"This isn't a choice; this is the only option we have and I trust Bilbo; he wouldn't do anything to hurt Throin." Bofur spoke "I trust Bilbo" he repeated almost as though he was trying to reassure himself of the statement by saying it out loud.

* * *

Bilbo sat alone and nervous, he felt sick. So sick he couldn't even eat (well he did manage a few pieces of bread but for a Hobbit that hardly counts as food.) He heard footsteps approaching behind him and turned expecting one of the dwarves to come and tell him of their decision, he turned to greet them with a hopeful smile and though he was greeted by the sight of a dwarf it was not one he was expecting.

Thorin Oakenshield approached and despite being bedecked in all the finery and jewels that Erebor could offer he looked like hell on earth. He was pale and drained, his hair a tussled un-braided mess and Bilbo felt positive that the man who stood in front of him had neither eaten nor slept since they had reclaimed these hallowed halls. His heart constricted as he stared at his friend or at least the empty shell that now masqueraded as him.

"Burglar" his voice sounded distant "what are you doing here alone?"

"Just…I-I-I…I guess I just wanted some time to myself." A grunt was his only response he got and Bilbo quietly hoped that that would be the end of it and the King would walk on and leave him alone but he stood there unmoving. "Thorin…are you alright?" with those words Thorin looked at Bilbo and seemed to actually see him, he looked offended and aloof and it gave Bilbo hope that perhaps somewhere in there his friend was still ok.

"Of course I am ok…what reason would I have to be otherwise? Erebor is mine again and so is the Arkenstone." The Halfling stood and smiled kindly trying to brush off the clipped tone that was directed at him.

"Ok, well then perhaps we should join the others? Is Gandalf not with you?"

"He has already left to see them, I would have gone directly if I had not have spotted you." He paused a while before asking "Do you like Erebor then hobbit?" For a moment Bilbo chewed over the best way to respond to this question; his gut reaction was quite resoundingly 'no I bloody don't' though he was a well-mannered hobbit and did not want to offend his talking companion especially considering his mental state.

"Yes, from what I have seen it is quite magnificent. Your ancestors built themselves a beautiful home." Thorin nodded his agreement but he was no longer looking at the man in front of him for his eyes were examining the room and the gold inlayed walls. Bilbo stood and gestured towards the area that he knew the dwarves and Gandalf would be located in and after what seemed a considerable time the King under the mountain dragged his gaze away from the opulent décor and followed the shorter man to their temporary camp.

* * *

When the King and the burglar rounded the corner a sombre group of dwarves and a wizard stood in front of them. If it was possible Bilbo would have sworn the air actually thickened and his stomach began to knot painfully. The look in Gandalf's eyes said it all and never was as hollow a victory ever won.

No matter how much the sickness had addled his mind Thorin was a warrior trained in battle and he knew when something was wrong. His large callous hand fell to the hilt of his sword and in a swift movement he pulled Ocrist from its scabbard.

"There is something amiss here." He growled savagely, "what are you planning? Do you think you can have my treasure? Is that what this is? You traitors!" The covetous paranoia dripped from his tongue making his usually pleasant voice sound mad and frightening.

"Thorin…please." Kili spoke calmly but his eyes gave away his nerves as he stepped slowly toward his uncle. The king lunged and if Gandalf had not blocked his path Bilbo was pretty sure Thorin would have gutted his young nephew there and then. Luckily sword struck sword and Gandalf parried the strike and with a swift movement extended his staff towards the dwarf King.

"I am sorry." The wizard spoke softly and with true remorse. Suddenly a light dazzling and hot scorched the room and temporarily blinded the company who yelped in shock at the retina burning blast; they blinked and rubbed at their eyes trying to clear their vision but when they looked around Thorin was nowhere to be seen. Gandalf sat exhausted before them.

"He will be quite safe." The words of the wizard touched the ears of the dwarves and the single hobbit but it did not touch their hearts. They felt dirty and utterly treacherous and worst still they had banished the one who had brought them all together and sent him god knows where. "Come, we have much to do and the sooner we accomplish it the sooner we can bring Thorin home…" the murmurs of agreement rose, echoed and dissipated into the cool marble hall however nobody made to move. For a while at least, sitting in silence was the only feat they were able to accomplish.


	3. What He Did With His Life

**This time I'm eating ice-cream…nothing is better than ice-cream in freezing cold English weather! Thank you people, who have read, reviewed and followed. All such things are gratefully received, this update took some time due to family visits that the seasonal holiday seems to demand…also I have changed where I was originally going with this and decided as my favourite character in all the Tolkien universe Bilbo needs to remain in the story, oh and I am toying with the idea of an OC love interest for Thorin (Thoughts on such a matter are appreciated especially as I am hyper aware of the problematic Mary-Sue shit that can occur!) Anyway this is where the story really does start moving forward and being very Thorin centric so I hope you enjoy it etc.**

_**Update: Additionally, I am sorry for the constant changing of the story description. I will never ever be content with that bloody synopsis! It really isn't helped by me constantly changing what I want to write etc. Anyway more shameless begging for reviews (I constantly need to be reassured!) Enjoy (again)**_

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The smell was pungent, is smelt like the smelted mass of copper that could rise from the forge, the air was thick with it and he was tattooed in the deep crimson and black stains of the blood that caused it. Rich and sickly, thicker than wine and twice as potent to his sense and none of it his; he hollered to his troops and held his sword aloft, he rallied them and they rose to the occasion; hundreds upon thousands of them charged toward their enemy fighting for him, for the man they had called their Prince the man they would call their King and a perverse rush shot into his gut, this blood lust spurred and enslaved his body and he fought on. The smell got thicker, he felt the rivulets of sweat and blood run down his chest; dripping off his chin and matting into his chest hair. He could feel every sensation on nerves that were ablaze. Thorin Oakenshield swung his axe into the skull of his closest enemy and felt the satisfying tremor run up his arm as blade jarred and smashed bone, the creature fell to the floor dead as the powerful warrior yanked his blade free spinning upon his next attacker. Then the colour drained, the memory faded and all went black and the sound of an obnoxious piercing alarm dragged him from his dreams and back into the world of the living.

He growled furiously as he grabbed at his phone which was squealing for attention like a particularly needy child and turned off the alarm. He rubbed his large palms again his eyes wiping away the last vestiges of sleep. It was 6am and the room was still dim with only the invasive London street lamp allowing any illumination, he always felt particularly irritable in a morning but never more so than when he dreamt. The dreams that were so vivid and allowed him to feel alive and gave him a strong sense of belonging, he never understood them though. Thorin Durin had no wish to fight people, his words were his weapons and his tongue was sharp and cutting enough to render a sword redundant. He could not comprehend it at all; he held no interest in knights or crusades and was indeed quite ignorant to a lot of medieval history and yet in those dreams he felt a powerful feeling of belonging. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and braved the mild chill of the room. He needed to set that thermostat to turn on earlier. He looked over to the sleeping form on the other side of the bed and quietly as he could crept towards the bathroom to prepare himself for another long day in the city.

The hot water of the shower beat down upon him as he tilted his face directly into the jet, his greying hair slicked back in the wetness of the shower, Thorin felt tired to his bones as he soaped every inch of his body; allowing the water to warm him up. Eyes closed he thought of himself in his dream, he felt the tickle of phantom long locks that contrasted to the short smart crop of hair he sported. His wife's decision, mind you what about his appearance was not his wife's decision. The hair, the insistence on him being clean shaven and how it was essentially forced upon him that he always wore the highest quality suits and shoes, if he hadn't put his foot down he swore she would have forced him to have his chest regularly waxed but he did have some pride. Perhaps that was it, that was why he was so compelled by his dreams, in his sleep he was no longer a brow beat 40 something year old bank manager, there was no wife to appease and consider, he didn't have cheque books to balance or employees to hire and fire no when he slept he could just feel the rush of battle. Perhaps his wife was right; perhaps he was just heading towards a mid-life crisis after all.

* * *

Bilbo and the Dwarves silently stood and stared at their wizard companion for a good long while in utter silence, some of the company sat with jaws hanging open but it was finally Balin who broke the thick and still atmosphere. "Gandalf…where have you sent him? Where is our king?" Gandalf fixed the senior dwarf with a piercing look, though no malice was held in it. He sat quietly for a moment taking a long drag on his pipe before exhaling a particularly impressive smoke ring.

"Gone, master dwarf." Gandalf finally answered "I cannot say where, not because I don't know you understand but because you would not know it. It is not a place of Middle Earth. Indeed what I know of it is mostly from guess work and magic however I can tell you it is a place called London. It's in England…that could or could not be a positive thing. I'm not sure, during my limited scrying I hear they have Tories in and though I cannot tell you for definite what they are I believe they are that worlds equivalent of an Orc, if not in ferocity then at least in popularity." The dwarves all look horrified at this and commenced to shout and point fingers at one another; accusations fly and soon a fight breaks out.

"Stop it" Bilbo bellows over the racket of rambunctious dwarves. "Gandalf tell me you are joking, tell us that these…whatever they're called…tell me please Gandalf. Say to me that you are joking and I have not sent my friend to the mercy of Orcs." Gandalf smiled softly ruffling the hair of the hobbit making him scowl as he did not appreciate being patronised.

"I may have been jesting a little, they will – I am sure – cause no direct physical harm to Thorin, and they are men. Politicians in fact…please all of you stop fighting, I promised you Thorin would be sent somewhere safe and it is a promise I have every intention of keeping. We simply need to clear up this situation, in which we find ourselves and then we can return Master Oakenshield to his rightful position as King of Erebor."

"But how will we know our uncle is safe until then?" Killi piped up. There was a rumble of agreement as the dwarves looked at Gandalf.

"Well." The wizard said thoughtfully his eyes lighting up "It would require one of you to go and keep an eye on him. We would need someone who could be discreet but also ingratiate himself into Thorin's good graces as I made sure – for the sake of his sanity – that he did not remember middle earth or any of the events that transpired. Infact for all intense and purposes untill we bring him back he is a human" A few noises of shocked disgust rose from the group. "Yes, yes, yes, enough of that if you please. Now we would need someone who could befriend and look out for him without drawing any suspicion." Gandalf's eyes fell upon Bilbo "We would need someone who has the potential to convincingly emulate the manners of those around him, someone with a mild temper and large heart." As if on cue all the other members of the party turned to him with pleading eyes. Bilbo raised his hands to defend himself as he shook his head at those pleading faces.

"No." Bilbo said defiantly but as they all looked at him the guilty burden in his chest swelled. He sent Thorin away, he persuaded the other dwarves into this action. This was his doing…he groaned pitifully knowing his own damned Hobbit conscious would not allow him to do anything but go and look out for his friend and king. His eyes fell upon the floor.

"So tell me about this London…"


	4. Paint A Smile On

_**I decided I wanted to do another update quite quickly while I was in the writing mood (well in the mood to write fan-fiction; the play I have a deadline for is sitting isolated and abandoned in the corner with a fast approaching deadline but hey-ho!) Again sorry for the constantly changing synopsis, I detest writing the things and thus they are never a satisfactory summation. In a quick addition thank you to Purestrongpoem for their short but sweet comments because I do really appreciate them and I should have thanked both you and Charlene sooner and also to sph9swc, I am glad you enjoyed the last chapter and to put it in the mildest sense me and David (the lizard) Cameron are not going to be friends anytime soon!**_

_**Anyway thank you to anyone and everyone reading – hope you like it – this chapter is going to be a little longer than the last one, and as is usually I am not too proud to beg for a review of follow or dance the fandango etc; oh and yes I do have every intent on writing a scene where Bilbo is forcibly foot waxed within the next few chapters and Thorin will continue being captain cheerful as I love calling him…Enjoy!**_

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Bilbo was not happy with this new state of affairs, not in the least little bit. Gandalf had told him all he physically could on this weird new – well god knows what – and frankly the information presented left more than a little to be desired. He was told that like Thorin he would find himself in this 'London' place and once there he would have new knowledge of the world around him and also he would have a home and other things that should allow him to safely exist within this terrifying new environment however unlike Thorin Gandalf had absolutely no intention of removing the little halfling's memory; after all, as the wizard astutely put it 'what would be the bloody point exactly?' The Hobbit needed his memories in order to locate and essentially keep a close eye on the dwarf until it was time for them both to be extricated and brought home.

"I assure you it will be quite safe, and I will try to find a way for us to stay in contact whilst you are there so you can know how affairs here progress. I promise you won't be there any longer than is strictly necessary." The grey wizard said all this with such a twinkle in his eye that quite frankly Bilbo was beginning to think that much like in the Shire all those months ago the wizard was gaining some amusement in dragging the little creature out of his comfort zone. However if Gandalf got great joy out of such a prospect at least he was safe in the knowledge that his dwarf friends felt absolutely no relish in sending yet another of their number into this new unknown world. Though much to his delight, it did seem agreeing to such a thing had brought the dwarves out of their frigid stupors and their stony attitudes had one again mellowed to him. Several slapped him on the shoulder encouraging and they all smiled (at least Bilbo assumed they all smiled, it was quite hard to tell with some of their beards)

"We will have such a feast when you an Thorin return" Balin said softly in a kind attempt to lighten the hobbit heart there was a murmur of consent as Bofur added

"ah, you'll barely be gone. Back before you know it!" Gandalf smiled at this the twinkle never parting from his eyes.

"Are you ready Bilbo Baggins?" Bilbo made a slight whimpering sound and wished beyond all things (if you dared believe it this was a wish more fervent than any he had before, even those wishes for food and his nice arm chair.) that he could merely shake his head and disappear into some nice quiet space in Erebor's deep halls but instead he steeled himself and gave a nod of acceptance.

"Take care." And with that a bright light burned the room once more and Bilbo closed his eyes and felt that he was falling from a great height. Suddenly the feeling of something soft but oh so solid was beneath him. He slowly opened his eyes and looked suspiciously at the world around him.

He lay in a spacious yet understated room upon a nice comfy bed, at first he considered exploring. This would be the sensible option; he could find food or explore the rest of…wherever this was. However it seemed that the transportation was not without its ramifications and the now little human (for even in his new environment at only 5 foot 3 inches Bilbo was short) was overcome with a horrific headache. The exploration would need to wait a little while at least as for now the most he could manage was to curl himself into a small ball beneath his downy covers and hope that some rest would stop the incessant hammering in his head.

* * *

Thorin had long since decided the world was a cruel unforgiving place, he supposed in realism this was both an age thing and a British thing but the fact remained whatever his excuses he was miserable as all sin and nothing seemed to be able to rectify this point, he had the money, the house, the car, he didn't have children and he had a beautiful life. Christ it sounded down right ideal and yet in practise it wasn't and perhaps that was boredom. He really didn't care to analyse it any further, he knew he would not receive sympathy and why should he? He had a good lot, if he could only be content with it but that was impossible because the expensive cologne replaced the coppery smell of blood. His ring (a plain gold wedding band) was a tasteful affair not the garish piece of silver that weighed so comfortably on his finger in him dream world and now he was utterly positive he was going mad.

Pulling into his space he parked up his dark blue Lexus and stepped out into the early morning chill. Grabbing his briefcase and pulling his coat tightly about him Thorin walked quickly into the bank. He grunted his greetings to the security staff and headed straight to the lift and went up to the fifth floor and his office. It was a gaudy bit of architecture all glass panels and sleek lines and looked hideously out of place when considering the old stone walls that it was all encased in.

As he walked towards his office the staff dropped their eyes refusing to meet his, he scared them and he knew it and quite by choice made absolutely no attempts to rectify it. If they didn't like it they could find another bloody job as far as he was concerned. He sat down on the palatial leather chair and unceremoniously slammed the briefcase down in front of him. It was going to be a long day, he had to make sure that the figures the accountants had given him were all in order and he knew he would inevitable have to deal with some moron or another who had some qualm with something (if he listened he may realise many of these 'qualms' were about him being generally rude to his staff but he did not listen. However human he may look now Thorin was most defiantly still a stubborn dwarf at heart.)

He had been in little over fifteen minutes before his long suffering secretary and assistant bustled in with a black coffee and a stack of papers for him to read and sign.

"I leave today." She said matter of factly and it took the man a moment to process exactly what she has said to him. When he did he deemed it as a priority to find out what the fuck she was blathering on about now.

"You're leaving where today Sophie?" She gave him a sharp glare that made him flinch a little – her hawk like appearance in these moments had such an effect on most men – she signed a little exasperated.

"I leave here Mr Durin, as in for good. My maternity leave begins tomorrow" He had notice that she had put on some weight but felt it a little impolite to say (A rare moment of consideration.) He was quietly relieved that it was a child; at least that was a semi-decent reason for her to lose her figure. She continued "and I am not coming back after as James and I have decided that I should try being a stay at home mum, keep down child costs and all that. I have already sorted you a new slave so you're not to panic." Her tart tone was set off by a mischievous smirk, for all their bristling they did in many ways manage a convivial working relation (well as convivial as anyone can have with a curmudgeonly, misanthropic ex-dwarf.) though the last comment did make him lift an eyebrow in query.

"New slave? As in…not one I already know?" Sophie sniggered at this and nodded

"That's right Mr Durin, a brand new soul for you to crush mercilessly into the ground with your bad temper."

"I do not have a bad temper." He snapped thus nullifying any point he wished to make "and anyway why do I need a new assistant. Angela always managed when you were sick." The woman's eyes widened in utter shock and she shook her head with a look of bafflement.

"Do you mean Angela who you fired for incompetence because you said she was too thick to function or the Angela you openly referred to as a pygmy swamp donkey?"

"The latter."

"Well not surprisingly Thorin she doesn't want to take on the position, I believe her exact words were 'no amount of money is worth that.'" Thorin sat with a contemplative look on his face.

"Chloe?"

"She refused too, she said you would cause her to have a nervous breakdown…Diane, Jayne and Toby had similar objections"

"Simon?"

"How shocked would you be if I told you that he said he would literally rather die?" Thorin pursed his lips for a moment

"If I am honest I would equally wish him to literally die…but really Soph, you hired someone new…what if I don't like them? What if they're an utter moron?" Sophie sighed. She had had enough of her boss' petulance, she was quite probably the only human in this whole building who liked Thorin on a personal level, Christ most barely tolerated him but sometimes he really could test her patience to the absolute nth degree.

"Thorin, I do not care if you like her; I hired her because she fit the criteria I deem necessary to work with you intimately on a daily basis." His eyes narrowed and he bit his inner cheek a sure sign that the man was getting incredibly pissed off.

"And what criteria is that prey tell?" the self-satisfied smirk told the man he was not going to like the answer to this question. She began listing on her fingers.

"Intelligent, astute, quite mouthy, head strong, desperate for money and utterly bloody insane." She gave him an overly exaggerated smile as he rubbed his temples with the upmost displeasure. "Her name is Ariana Hager, she's a former arts student – I know how you love those – and she IS starting tomorrow Thorin Durin and so help me you WILL play nice." Then the brunette flashed another one of her prize shit eating grins and exited leaving her boss with more proof then he ever needed that indeed the world was a cruel unforgiving place.


	5. Fracture Line Forming

So this is part five. Thank you for the reviews from Roxie and especially a very helpful review from WhiteFang72. I'm in the editing process with all chapters at the moment so hopefully they will all reach a better standard sooner than later!

I hope you enjoy chapter 5, It is not my best work or a favoured chapter but it's necessary but like everything else will be edited along the way. It also took longer than I first assumed thanks to a melodrama performance I got roped into at the last minute; additionally Bilbo will make a proper re-appearance later; it's just I want to establish the OC's (Thorin's wife and his new assistant.) As they will be taking key roles in this. Quick note because I feel I need to justify myself, I know dwarves are craftsmen etc. so should appreciate art/artists but I feel as a banker and in the role I have given him Thorin very much feels that people who study art are lazy low life scroungers so his snide comments will continue (all comments are things I've had from family and strangers – feel free to message me your own! It will be fun, painful memories recited by a former dwarf!)

* * *

Thorin was not happy to say the least. This quite obviously was not a new occurrence; Thorin Durin was not exactly a man who would be described as the life of the party or a ray of sunshine indeed on some days the man barely managed to pass for reasonably pleasant but today in particular he was not happy. It had started badly (as so many awful days do) he had barely slept and when he did manage to doze the dream had been there again. Drawing him into this consuming world where he felt whole and complete. It was so vivid this time that even soaping in the shower he still felt the dirt and coagulated blood clogging his pores. Then there had been the traffic which was excessive even by London standards. But this was the fucking icing on the cake as far as he could see it. The woman who sat in front of him was one thing too many and he was in no mood to play nice – anyway if he was as casually rude as usual he might manage to get her to quit by weeks end. It wasn't that she was too difficult to look at; (yes this was important to such and covetous man. Especially as the ugly quota was more than filled by the filling assistant Helen) she was tall and though by no means pretty could certainly be considered uniquely attractive with a large swell of breast and hips that balanced her out making her look curved rather than just (as Thorin believed the term was) top heavy. No, her general appearance was not the issue – well so long as you over looked her cheap clothes and the dark roots in her bleached hair - and in fact if she was just some women tottering round the office the curmudgeonly manager might have even felt total indifference to this twenty something year old being around. But she wasn't some silly office woman he could appreciate from afar; and frankly the idea of tolerating this ex-art student and on top of that having to regularly converse with her was more than he was able to bear.

"So…" she spoke trying to break this horrible tension. She felt a little sick with nerves, when she was given the job she had been informed/warned of her new boss' temperament but she thought he would at least pretend he was interested in his new dogsbody; apparently this was too much to hope for as his contempt wasn't even slightly concealed. "I'm Ariana Hager." He grunted…he actually grunted at the woman making her bite lightly upon her tongue – a habit inherited from her father - in an attempt not to make a less than palatable comment. "You can call me Ana…" another grunt was issued "look are you going to actually say anything?"

"What do you want me to say?" That was the first thing Thorin ever said to Ana Hager and if the fates weren't so cruel to the former King it would have been the last. She quirked her mouth into a brief smirk, she decided that there was at least one palatable thing about him; his voice was nice and melodic even if it did have a rather unpleasant edge to it.

"How about 'Hello' or maybe introduce yourself…or you could tell me what you want me to do?"

Thorin returned the little smirk his eyes cold as they locked with hers and he raised a heavy eyebrow "I believe you're my assistant."

"Sophie said flying monkey."

"I was always left with the impression that flying monkeys were pre-trained" Ana scowled at him, her chin jutting a little, a mark of irritation and the man – now drumming his fingers on his oak desk – took note of how short a temper the young woman had and a flicker of hope ignited within him as he considered the possibility that perhaps he could get her to quit before too long and he could find himself a more suitable substitute. The young woman pursed her lips as she slowly counted to ten; the man was quite clearly a complete arse hole. She was told he could be unnecessarily smug and rude but she figured that in the current climate a job was a job and Sophie assured her that her new boss had positive qualities. She was going to have to e-mail the woman who employed her and ask what exactly these qualities were because disregarding his physical appearance and voice he had all the charm and manners of a hungry shark, though Ariana suspected that a hungry shark would smile more. Once she felt her anger abate a little she decided to try a different tactic, she gave a light well-meaning smile before attempting to talk to him again "Look, why don't I go make you a coffee and you can decide what it is you require me to do this morning. "

"I do not require you to do anything" He snapped

"Then why did you hire me?" this was becoming a saga and she had barely been there twenty minutes,

"I didn't hire you. Sophie hired you and I don't want you here; I have enough to do without some poncy artist faffing around my office and making things more stressful. So let me make this very clear, I have no interest in you being here and I have no interest in continuing this conversation." With that the former dwarf looked back down at his paper work and started thumbing through it seeing what it was exactly he was meant to sign. Ana however didn't move; she couldn't even be enraged at the man in front of her. She was far too taken aback to be angry at his blunt and abrasive comments. Finally when her brain started to function again she stood up slowly from the chair that she had perched herself upon.

"I need this job, so like it or not you are stuck with me until you find a reason to legally fire me. As such I suggest you find some work for me because otherwise you're paying a decent wage to a glorified tea girl." With that the woman marched off indignantly in the direction of the kitchen muttering as she left.

* * *

The mug of coffee was placed none too gently in front of him and a folder shoved directly under his nose. Before he was even able to make a comment the poker faced new 'flying monkey' - as he was now referencing her - offered a slightly tart explanation.

"One of the admin boys brought it up, it needs a signature of approval to pay for the new software updates."

"So why am I dealing with it?"

"Because I have to make assumptions about both my role and your role as you're none too forth coming with any information?" Her forced quizzical tone only served to raise his ire further, if he had sat and thought for a moment Thorin may have noticed his distaste for the young unfortunate was unjustified and unfounded but as has been made clear, whether he was aware of it or not Thorin Durin was still at heart a dwarven King and dwarven Kings are none too fond of quiet contemplation. They feel much more comfortable following their irritable instincts. He took a sip of his coffee and cringed as the sweetness rushed over his taste buds. Once he had swallowed he made a noise of distaste that made her give her first genuine smile of the morning.

"You've put sugar in this." He glowered making the smile on her face spread into a grin, she couldn't help it this man, who looked so broad and imposing with his striking features and piercing eyes, this man who scared a building of employees (and if Ana was honest even made her a little nervous) sounded like a petulant child because of some sweetener. She supressed a little chuckle before nodding an affirmation

"You didn't tell me how you liked it and I thought you could use a little sweetening." If looks could kill then a coroner would have been declaring Ariana Hager very much deceased and Thorin would have at that moment been happy to go to prison for it. The woman started to exit the room but turned when he grumbled at her

"I would like it with milk and no sugar in future." Turning on her heels she strolled back to the desk leaning slightly to collect the mug and exited the room without saying another word to her employer; though no more words were exchanged between the two that day it was becoming increasingly clear to everyone around them that this was going to be the start of a very trying time.

* * *

When Thorin returned home that night he was in a fouler mood than the one he had left in; though he doubted his wife would even notice, the relationship was getting progressively worse and if it wasn't for blind stubbornness alone (he was not a man to willingly admit defeat) he would have probably filed for divorce years ago. There was no love left in their relationship and the sexual side was near none existent of late and yet he still barely ever managed to stand up to her, Sophie once assessed (over several whiskeys) that this was probably why he was so unbearable at work. Thorin pointed out it was equally likely that his wife was this way because he was unbearable at home and perhaps both had a valid point however the fact remained that the second he entered that home he felt like an emasculated shell of a human. So tonight when his wife sauntered over and kissed him upon the cheek he knew he was in deep unremitting trouble. She was never affectionate like this, not unless she required something and if Louise wanted something you could be damned sure she was going to get it.

"Thorin, you know Charles and Amy right?" with her hand placed upon his arm Louise gently ushered her husband towards the living room but not before hissing in his ear "if you don't be nice you're not having sex for a month."

"Nothing new there." He grunted irritably and received an icy glare for his insolence. She was beautiful and he was frequently told how well he had done for himself but God did he disagree and more so hate himself for being so cowed by the little flame haired witch and it was on that thought that he forced himself to smile at his guests looking every inch the respectable middle class husband when all he really wanted to do was curl up in bed and put the day behind him and dream of faraway lands and battles. He was clearly having a midlife crisis.


	6. The Things We Do

Part 6 is here and thank you again to people who have reviewed favourite and followed. You are deeply loved as I crave constant reassurance because I am in the arts and it is what I do! Sorry for the late update I have been busy with university and a very much expected visitor who lived with me for nearly a month! I hope you enjoy part 6, reviews (as is clear) are loved and appreciated and I hope you enjoy rather in-depth thoughts on hobbit feet!

* * *

Bilbo stared with mutinous loathing at the two leather shoes in front of him. He had been in this 'London' for four days now and he was becoming no fonder of it; he yearned for the familiarity of middle earth and the simple warm comforts it provided. His brain ached from Gandalf's spell which forced two worlds of knowledge into one mind and made Bilbo aware of everything that surrounded him - sadly though - aware did not mean happy or comfortable. His biggest examples of this state of knowledge and distaste were the cars (like metal horses but louder and almost solely controlled by the mentally unsettled) the microwave (what would poses you to not want to make your own food properly, exactly?) but most troublesome to the currently ex-halfling were shoes. Now Bilbo had obviously always been aware of shoes but hobbit's didn't require them, their lovely feet were thick soled enough to avoid almost all injuries and hairy enough that they were warm no matter the weather. However Bilbo no longer had hobbit feet and he also had an acute awareness of how much people had stared at him the one and only time he had ventured out shoeless. So now he was stuck with the damn things. He hated them for numerous reasons but first and foremost was the way they made his feet feel unpleasantly sweaty if he walked far, he had tried other options too; upon his arrival he had scoured the whole flat and discovered a wardrobe full of clothes and an array of footwear (clearly Gandalf found the idea of a shoe wearing hobbit deeply amusing) and Bilbo had tried on each of them in turn, brogues, creepers, formal shoes and a rather striking pair of boots but the only ones Bilbo felt any affinity with were the nice pair of dark brown sandals. Now natural you would assume that Mr Baggins would decide to wear those sandals and be damned with the colder weather but unfortunately for Bilbo he was struck with a dilemma. Two worlds trapped in one mind and though he no longer had his lovely furry hobbit feet he still had excessively hairy human feet and also the very worrying knowledge that foot hair in this world wasn't seen as an attractive feature (something the former halfling found utterly incomprehensible) in fact as far as he was aware (Mr Baggins was respectable and thus was unaware of the rather more worrying side of fetishism) the world Gandalf had placed him had an insane vendetta against all forms of body hair, he could barely turn when he went shopping without seeing some nasty magazine sneering at any woman with more than simply her head hair and men didn't have it much easier; they were all waxed chests and even though the short man had little body hair of his own (hobbit hair was mostly foot and leg orientated) he could not imagine any of his dwarven friends waxing or shaving, indeed they saw hairiness as a badge of honour and attractiveness; even young Kíli whose beard was barely coming through would not be caught dead shaving (indeed to many dwarves being shaved is a fate far worse than death.) These thoughts made Bilbo worry about Thorin; he knew he would have to start searching harder to locate his friend soon, he miserably thought that he was making a pretty poor protector and sighed looking down at those damn shoes and then to the corner where the lovely comfy sandals sat, they called to the hobbit. He had a choice he realised. He could continue this hateful motion of perpetually sweaty feet or he could conform to this terrible new world and wear his nice sandals. He let out a little whine of defeat and felt the rush of shame as he lifted up the box that had sat on his bedside table since he purchased it two days prior.

"Veet waxing strips…" he sighed miserably "Oh my mother would be ashamed." The short man wandered to the bathroom his head hung in resignation and he continued to mumble soft curses to himself as he flicked on the little light (one invention he could grow accustomed too) and placed the box on the side as he gave his foot hair one last wistful glance.

* * *

Ariana sat looking at the letter of resignation and the nervous looking man standing in front of her, he was easily twice her age and had a rather rat like quality about him.

"Are you absolutely sure it is my job to deal with this?" she asked again, Mr Durin still hadn't informed her of her expected roles within the company so on the third day of her employment she had managed to get paid for shredding four files, making coffee and not killing her employer every time he made an unpleasant remark. The latter part of the job was probably why it was such a good wage. It occurred to the young woman that her predecessor had made a wise decision and could not for the life of her comprehend how she had stuck at the position for so long. So shocked was she in fact that she had e-mailed Sophie that morning.

_Mrs Faulkner, am e-mailing to ask what the hell my job entails. I know you said Mr Durin would inform me but past him asking for coffee or muttering I have yet to be given any form of communication. _

_Ariana Hager_

She had yet to receive a reply but was hopeful she would get something back because if she didn't she was sure that she was going to have to find her boss and beat him with a stapler until he gave her something to do and though not positive Ana was pretty sure assault with an item of stationary was a firing offence.

The little rat creature nodded at her "yes Ms Hager, it is your job to hand it on to Mr Durin. I will work my notice but in two weeks I am leaving."

"Ah, well…"

"No." he interrupted looking quite shaken and quite mad "I can't do it anymore. I panic every time I have to speak with him."

"Right…well…errrrm I guess I will go give it to him then." She sounded as unsure as she felt and the little man nodded with great enthusiasm and scurried away which only added to the rat like appearance. With him gone the woman stood with a stretch and flicked on the kettle so she could placate her overlord (as she had taken to calling him) with caffeine before handing over the letter of resignation.

Mug full of steaming black she wandered into the large office, after day two she stopped bothering to smile on entry and the man behind the oak desk either didn't notice or didn't give a shit. She put the mug down first and got a growl of acknowledgement but he never looked up from his papers and to his mind, why should he. Thorin was a busy man and had no time to exchange pleasantries with what he considered a certified waste of space but when she didn't immediately leave he finally caught her gaze. Steel blue eyes met with large mossy green ones and he held her gaze for what felt to Ariana like an age. It was like an animal showing its dominance, in such situations a sensible animal will drop their gaze and show themselves as the subordinate but Ana was not the accepting type and she stared back until Thorin finally spoke.

"What the hell do you want?" he snapped at her breaking the silent battle and drawing attention to the matters at hand. The woman in front of him fumbled a little before reaching out and presenting him with a letter "what is that?"

"Oh, errrm…well that would be a letter of resignation." A rush of overwhelming glee shot through the man

"You're leaving us so soon?" her puzzled look and shake of the head made Thorin's heart sink a little as he opened the letter and began to read it muttering several words aloud.

"It's the little rat faced chaps…dunno his name I didn't ask. He was scared of you though." Thorin chuckled at that and the woman felt herself smile a little at the warm noise. It was a delightful sound and was a shock considering who is was issued from. In that moment Ana decided she needed to make the older man laugh again, it was a noise that suited him far better than his usual grumbles and growls.

"Right, in which case my glorified tea girl you need to go advertise his job and get someone to interview him. As he's in my office perhaps you would do it – I mean you don't have much else going on, am I correct?" He raised a heavy brow and she restrained the mutinous look she was desperate to give.

"Guess not, unless you fancy telling me what I am meant to be doing…"

"You sort this for me and you don't fuck it up, I will tell you whatever you wish to know."

"Bet you say that to all the girls!" Thorin stared at her, no one ever made comments like that at him, he felt utterly taken aback by something so offhand and Ana's mouth hung open looking as shocked as the former dwarf felt. Her skin started to go pink with embarrassment and then she pulled a face that seemed to be a mixture of shocked and apologetic.

"That…that just…I…slipped out…sorry...I am sure you say much nicer thing to the…no, shit that's not…bollocks…sorry." She blurted out the incomprehensible string as Thorin looked at her his face schooled into blankness before bursting out laughing; he couldn't place what exactly amused him so much but the sight of his assistant scampering off in her little black skirt was made doubly pleasurable because of it. Drinking deeply from his coffee mug Thorin continued on with his pile of paper work, utterly oblivious to his bewildered employees who nearly had a group panic attack hearing the unfamiliar sound drifting through the glass door of his office.

* * *

Somewhere across the city a very different sound was issued through the little white door that belonged to the bathroom of Mr Bilbo Baggins. The sound that issued through that door was a yelp of pain and several more followed.

"confusticate these bloody thing." He muttered and yanked yet another wax strip off of his poor abused foot. It was pink, slightly stinging and now free of all hair. He rubbed at it delicately and stared at the used wax strip coated in a thick swathe of hair, what was wrong with this place that people would willingly do this to themselves and pay for it no less. Carefully folding the strips he placed them in the bathrooms tiny bin and left the small room with one last rueful sigh. The things he was willing to do to save his friend – he would remember this when they returned to Erebor and Bilbo felt he would be well within his right to hit the dwarf king for making him do such a shameful thing.

Grabbing his sandals Bilbo headed towards the door, he had decided that before he had to face that cursed internet thing he was going to buy something nice to eat for his second lunch as a treat for the indignities of the day. Yes he decided, wincing as the material rubbed his sore skin; Thorin Oakenshield most certainly deserved to be reprimanded for the honour of his poor feet.


End file.
